The rain slicked streets of Veylport glimmered under the dim lanterns, reflecting shards of light that fractured against the wet cobblestones. Rayon's coat clung to him as he walked, hands in his pockets, calm as ever, yet every muscle in his body was aware. Vorthalaxis shifted slightly around his arm, black markings glowing faintly, sensing tension in the air. Erethon's presence was a whisper in his mind, sardonic and amused.
"Ah… finally, someone with teeth. I've been waiting for this."
Rayon's violet eyes scanned the figure across the street. The stranger—tall, lithe, hooded—stepped forward. A subtle pulse of power radiated from him, unnatural and precise. Shadows clung to his form unnaturally, almost as if the air itself feared him.
"Forest Ghost," the man said, voice low, deliberate, like a blade drawn across metal. "I've heard whispers. Tonight… I see if the stories are true."
Rayon smirked faintly. "Stories are boring, but actions… now that's entertaining".
The man was called Kaeltherion, one of the elite Awakened Circle's heralds. His power was called Shadow Mimesis—the ability to manipulate shadows not just as extensions of his body, but as solid, semi-corporeal constructs capable of striking, binding, and shielding at lightning speed. He could replicate the form and movement of anything he touched, turning the environment itself into a weapon.
Erethon: Ah… this one knows how to move shadows. Fast, aggressive… and arrogant. He'll be fun to toy with.
Kaeltherion crouched slightly, shadowed hands glinting under the lantern light. "Your aura is… unnatural. But it is visible now. Let's dance."
Rayon tilted his head lazily. "Dance? Sure. Lead."
Kaeltherion lunged first, shadows erupting like liquid blades from his fingertips. Rayon moved calmly, stepping into the first strike with a subtle twist, letting the strings of his Hollow Strings weave almost invisibly around the attacker's wrists. The shadows hit, only to wrap and snap back against their master in a violent, unpredictable feedback.
Rayon flicked his wrist, pulling Kaeltherion toward him mid-lunge, spinning him into the side of a building. The impact cracked stone and sent shards falling like rain.
Erethon: Oh… now this is art.
Rayon's smirk remained unchanged. "That's one. You'll need a few more before you impress me."
Kaeltherion recovered instantly, shadows slithering around his limbs like serpents. He lashed outward, striking with impossible speed. Rayon's body flowed like water, sidestepping, ducking, and weaving through strikes with perfect poise. Every kick, punch, and twist of his body was controlled chaos, every string flick a tether to manipulate, restrict, or strike.
Kaeltherion twisted midair, shadows forming spikes around him. Rayon grabbed a string from his right hand, flicking it upward to slice through the spikes before they could hit. Simultaneously, he lashed another string toward Kaeltherion's legs, yanking him into a spin, and followed it with a sweeping kick that knocked him backward into a puddle of rainwater.
The clash sent a wave of kinetic energy through the street. Lanterns shattered, windows cracked, and the cobblestones beneath them trembled under the force.
Erethon: You're dancing beautifully, old you. Keep moving… make it painful.
Rayon's violet eyes gleamed faintly. "Pain is optional. Submission… inevitable."
Kaeltherion leapt again, this time forming shadow blades along his forearms, moving like liquid steel. Rayon anticipated each strike, letting strings curl and bind, twisting the attacker's arms midair. With each movement, Rayon's feet pivoted and spun along the wet stones, perfectly timed, almost like a dance— martial artistry intertwined with chaos.
Kaeltherion's shadow blades clashed with Hollow Strings, sparks and energy flaring where darkness met thread. Rayon flipped backward, avoiding a flurry of strikes, and flicked a string toward the nearest wall. It shot out like a whip, binding Kaeltherion's ankles, yanking him forward into a somersault kick that sent him crashing into a lamppost.
Erethon: Beautiful. You're bending him to your will without him even realizing it.
Rayon's smirk widened faintly. "Awareness isn't always an advantage."
Kaeltherion rolled, shadow blades forming again, slicing through the air in a relentless rhythm. Rayon let the strings wrap subtly around his legs, creating tension. Each strike Kaeltherion made was countered with minimal effort, yet perfectly lethal precision—every string, every step, every movement choreographed with inhuman calculation.
The fight escalated. Rain poured harder, black strings glinting in violet light as they snapped, twisted, and bound. Shadows screamed, twisted into jagged forms, and lashed outward—but Rayon's movements were fluid, almost serene amidst chaos. Hollow Strings weaved around him, coiling like living serpents, redirecting, yanking, constricting.
Kaeltherion attempted a multi-angle attack, striking from above, below, left, and right. Rayon didn't flinch. He bent backward, twisted mid-air, caught one of Kaeltherion's wrists with a string, and yanked violently, flipping him over a rooftop edge. Shadows twisted violently to anchor him, but Rayon's other hand flicked another string, binding Kaeltherion's legs to the railing.
Vorthalaxis hissed softly around Rayon's arm. "Master… the power differential is extreme. You are bending him to your will with mere strings."
Rayon smirked faintly. "Mere strings? No… they're more than that. They're me."
Kaeltherion, struggling against the bindings, realized he had been underestimating Rayon from the start. Every movement he made was anticipated, every strike countered, every opening denied. Rayon didn't shout, didn't taunt excessively. He simply moved with the effortless arrogance of someone who knows the outcome before it begins.
Erethon: He's beautiful… so aware, so calm, yet absolute chaos in motion. Perfect compatibility with madness.
Rayon tilted his head, letting the string tighten around Kaeltherion's torso. "See? You can resist. But you can't win."
The shadow blades faltered as the strings constricted. Kaeltherion's breathing was sharp, strained. For all his Awakened speed, all his skill, he could not break free without serious risk.
Rayon released a single string toward the lamppost beside them. The string shot like lightning, wrapping Kaeltherion's shadow blades, forcing him to drop them. Rayon stepped forward casually, smirk faint, eyes glowing. With a single motion, he flicked a string across Kaeltherion's chest and neck, pinning him against the rooftop railing.
"Let me guess," Rayon murmured, calm, almost playful. "You thought you could beat me in shadows and speed. Adorable."
Kaeltherion struggled, shadow forming around him, claws scraping against the strings. Rayon's violet gaze glinted. A subtle pull, a twist, and Kaeltherion fell unconscious, bound, and defeated—but alive.
Erethon: Alive. Of course. You want them to remember you, not die unremarkably.
Rayon stepped back, hands in pockets, smirk faint. "Lesson learned. Tell your friends. Or don't. Either way… they'll remember me."
Above the city, unseen by Rayon, more shadows began to shift. Others had felt the disturbance. Whispers spread through the Forsakens and the Awakened Circle alike:
"The Forest Ghost moves. He is… different. Dangerous. The game… is escalating."
Veylport had just witnessed a predator dancing among shadows, but the city—already rotten with greed, corruption, and hidden power—had no idea how deep the chaos would go.
Rayon smirked faintly, coat fluttering in the rain, hands in pockets. "I was getting bored. Time to fix that."
Vorthalaxis hissed softly, black scales glinting. Erethon chuckled faintly, amused and calculating. "Oh… this will be fun."